Darken the Sky, Light Up the Moon
by darkemagick22
Summary: As long as daylight lasts, they're a king and queen who are deeply in love, a clumsy manservant and a sorceress who has tried to raze Camelot to the ground. Under the cover of night, they give up the act.


**Darken the Sky, Light Up the Moon**

* * *

_'cause when I'm dreaming we don't seem so far_

* * *

She tastes like midnight and sin.

Gwen is no stranger to this, to the fierce press of lips against hers, of a tongue slipping in and out, weaving in some intricate dance with hers. She has kissed people before.

It was never like this, though.

She kissed Merlin only once, and that was when his lips were burning with sickness and fever and she'd gotten carried away. He hadn't kissed her back, and that was when she realized, without much disappointment, that Merlin was already spoken for. She doesn't remember much of it, and she's content with that, never feeling the need or want to remember. Merlin was her friend, and she wanted nothing more.

She's kissed Arthur quite a few times, being his Queen, and it was nice. Warm and tasting like sunlight with a faint note of something spicy-sweet, like mulled wine and honey. So yes, it was nice, but had always been short and chaste and Gwen had felt little during them apart from a lingering sense of faint sadness, like something was missing.

Then, of course, she'd realized that Arthur was secretly spoken for too. And had been for a long while after he'd met Merlin, like Merlin had been spoken for since the day he met Arthur.

By the Old Religion, she should've had seen the heart eyes they made at each other across Camelot, the river of trust and loyalty and sacrifice and love that ran deeper than anything Gwen could ever have with either of them.

She remembers the way Lancelot kissed her most often and most fondly, shyly, sweetly, almost reverent, as if he couldn't believe that Gwen wanted him. But, oh, she wanted him, and every kiss with Lancelot felt warm and precious and cherished, stretching on to eternity - every kiss with Lance felt like coming home.

This was different.

If Lancelot was contentment, Morgana is exhilaration.

Midnight and sin.

The way she feels when she's riding her horse at breakneck speed into the forest, the night air pleasantly cold and fast against her flushed face. Hints of guilt and shame at wanting this that are washed away in anticipation and the drugging feeling of Morgana's lips, making her high, making her forget until she isn't Queen Guinevere anymore, she's just Gwen, offering and taking pleasure, broken down and laid apart in front of her mistress.

And in moments like this Morgana's madness and magic are pulled back until Gwen feels her become the strong, beautiful girl who had been fearless until she feared herself. And Gwen loves moments like this, loves the implicit trust Morgana puts in her for a while at least.

They have tried to hurt each other far too often and betrayal takes time to heal. But with Morgana's mouth on hers it's forgotten, and maybe even forgiven, at least temporarily.

Sometimes, afterwards, Gwen will walk around gently cleaning up the hovel Morgana lives in as Morgana sits on the bed and watches her, and beneath the apprehension there's affection and something like awe that makes Gwen's chest feel tight.

Other nights, nights like this one, Gwen buries her face in Morgana's shoulder and Morgana's arms are around her, hesitant and unsure at first but then holding on tightly and Gwen thinks this. This is what she missed in Arthur, being held like she was precious and loved.

Arthur did love her, and Gwen did love him. But that love was a choice. And, Gwen thinks, burrowing deeper into Morgana's arms and thinking of Lancelot, neither Morgana or Lancelot had been a choice, just like Merlin had never been one for Arthur.

Some nights they talk about Camelot. Not about the defenses or about what happens in the castle, because Gwen is wary enough to know what Morgana might do with that information. No, they talk about the future.

Sometimes Gwen kisses Morgana's grimy fingers and promises her a place in Camelot again someday. That's when Morgana looks the most vulnerable, scared and alone but Gwen can see the flicker of hope in her eyes, can tell Morgana believes her.

They talk about a kingdom where they'll all rule - Morgana, Gwen, Arthur and Merlin (because apparently everyone knows about Arthur and Merlin apart from Arthur and Merlin themselves). It takes some time for Morgana to respond to the idea, but Gwen repeats it night after night, stroking her tangled hair, until Morgana nods and smiles when it's mentioned, until Gwen's whispers of _we all do terrible things in the name of love_ soothe the betrayal she feels for Merlin after he poisoned her and the conviction that Arthur will be Uther all over again.

Four thrones. Merlin would look ridiculous in a crown, and can you imagine Arthur leaning over and straightening it with that exasperated affection? And Morgana would laugh and say yes, she could imagine it. Red banners with golden dragons flying high. A place where past misgivings were forgotten and magic would live again.

A hot bath, Morgana muses, and Gwen laughs, clear and happy, for the first time in what seems to be too long.

And when one night Morgana whispers that they - all four of them - would build the greatest kingdom the world had ever seen, Gwen almost cries and thinks, someday. Someday we will.

"Shouldn't you be getting back to your chambers?" Morgana whispers one night.

"I'm pretty sure the chambers will be else occupied," Gwen says, her words muffled by the fabric of Morgana's dress.

"Three guesses by whom," Morgana says, and rolls her eyes, and Gwen hides her affectionate smile. Morgana is getting better. She can feel it.

She's been leaving in the night for a long time now, and she knows that Arthur has guessed where she goes to but he doesn't say anything. She also knows that right now Merlin will probably be in Arthur's chambers with a wineskin, both of them drunk and flushed with shining eyes, teasing and laughing and feeling like the prattish prince and incompetent manservant again the same way Gwen feels like a maidservant with no duties and no crown and Morgana feels loved - back in a time when they were all younger and happier.

Gwen smiles again at the image. In a way, this is how she gives them permission, tells them it's alright to love each other, and she knows that they'll understand it as such.

"It's selfish, you know," Morgana whispers, her arms tightening briefly around Gwen. "On the part of all three of you. And mine too."

And it is.

It's terribly selfish, Gwen knows. But she thinks about how Arthur, a selfless king who would give anything for his people, would stop the working of the kingdom to find Merlin and keep him safe, and how Merlin, equally selfless and thinking so little of himself, would lie and fight and kill for Arthur, and she thinks that maybe it's okay.

All their life the three of them have been selfless, and if love is the one selfishness they commit Gwen cannot bring herself to regret it.

So she looks at Morgana and says, "Do you deny it to me?"

Morgana shakes her head and tucks Gwen's head under her chin, and Gwen falls asleep there and dreams of a future where a king, a queen and their consorts rule a golden kingdom that history will remember.

* * *

_bring me the night that brings me to you_

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[Hi! This is my first tentative venture into fanfiction, and all comments, especially concrit, are loved. I tried to write plot, really, I did, but it somehow degenerated into this (oops).

The title and italicized lines are from 'Bring Me the Night' by Sam Tsui and Kina Grannis.]


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